


PB & MM

by M3zzaTh3M3z



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Childhood, Fluff, Gen, Growing Up, Light Angst, Pre-Season/Series 01, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 22:31:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18019664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/pseuds/M3zzaTh3M3z
Summary: Five's future is clear - he'll be a hero with the others. Vanya's future is empty - but he'll help her fill it.Or, the story behind Five's peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches.





	PB & MM

_What will you be when you grow up?_

For those with powers, there was never any doubt. They would be heroes. It was their purpose, their _raison d’etre_ , the fire of the forge that created perfect living weapons. They would be heroes, and they would save the world someday.

That was what Dad always said.

 

_What will you be when you grow up?_

 

Five was seven when he realised Vanya would have to be something else. By now it was clear her powers would never develop, she was a fluke, a mistake, she could never join their ranks.

More of Dad’s words.

Feeling bad for others wasn’t something Five did much, but he felt bad for her. Everything in his life was laid out – meal times, lessons, his future. Jumping required him to know exactly where he was and where he wanted to go. Having none of that sounded hard.

 

_What will you be when you grow up?_

 

He asked her, and she shook her head.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m just ordinary. I couldn’t be a hero like you guys.”

They were doing homework in her little beige room, Vanya hunched over her desk and Five sprawled on the floor surrounded by textbooks. Strictly speaking, he should be in the library, but Vanya’s room was warmer. Plus, this way if she got stuck he could help and Dad wouldn’t call her stupid for once. Five had moved on from the maths she was doing two years ago, so it was no trouble.

“Maybe you’ll be Dad’s assistant,” Five suggested. “Or help Mom look after all of us.”

He’d meant it as reassurance but Vanya shook her head again.

“No, they won’t want me here.”

“Of course they will.” The protest was instinctive but false. Would life really be so different without Vanya? Already she was absent from family portraits, games, training. What difference would it make except an empty chair at mealtimes, a silent bedroom, an unworn uniform?

“I’m not smart enough to help Dad and Pogo with their experiments, and Mom’s a robot. She doesn’t need any help at all.”

What difference except the loss of a sister? The loss of his friend, his ally, his confidant? If he’d been a wimp like Ben, Five might have felt tears prickle at the idea. “Well, I’ll want you here,” he said in a rush. “So there.”

Vanya smiled, her hands tightly folded in her lap. “I’m glad. But I still don’t know what I could do.”

“Anything.” It was true, Five realised. Without the task of saving the world on her shoulders, Vanya’s future was free. For the first time, he felt less bad for her. “Whatever you want.”

“Oh.” Chewing her lip, Vanya drummed her fingers on her leg. “I still don’t know,” she said eventually.

A frustrating answer when Five knew he’d have a hundred ideas ready if given the chance, but he wasn’t the one with that chance and so he pushed down his irritation. “That’s okay,” he said. She was only seven. Growing up was a long way off yet. “Let me know when you do. I’ll help.”

 

_What will you be when you grow up?_

_A doctor._

She would be a doctor, Vanya announced one day with uncharacteristic confidence. Only the way her eyes darted to Five gave any indication of nerves. He nodded encouragingly and her smile grew, eager for the future.

Klaus scrunched his face up in disgust. “Isn’t that like, loads of work?”

“Yes,” Vanya replied proudly.

“W-won’t you have to use… have to use n-needles?” asked Diego, his face vaguely green at the thought.

“Yes,” Vanya replied, giggling.

“Good, you’ll be our medic.” Luther didn’t phrase it as a question. No doubt.

“Yes,” Vanya replied, after a long pause. She was no longer smiling.

 

She carried a miniature doctor’s case all the time. The case was a toy, the contents were not. Band-aids, sterile wipes, scissors, splints, smiling stickers, bandages, needles, brandy and painkillers too until Mom confiscated the more dangerous items. Five told Vanya Dad had given her them, and didn’t mention the lock on the infirmary was no match for his temporal jumps. But no matter how well stocked her kit was, it didn’t see much use.

Diego sliced his arm, barely enough to make him bleed, but he howled like he’d lost a hand. Vanya had wipes and band-aids ready in an instant, but he yelled at her, tears and snot running down his face, until she was almost crying too. Five went to get Mom, then punched Diego at bedtime.

Allison scalded herself on the kettle, trying to make a grown up cup of tea. Hysterical, she refused to listen as Vanya explained again and again to run it under cold water and screamed at her to shut up. Five rolled his eyes as he looked for Mom again, and pretended he knew nothing when Allison’s favourite bracelet disappeared.

Five was not a clumsy child, but he began to find a lot more bruises and scrapes that needed attention from Vanya’s kit. Every time she comforted him with a gentle smile and liberally applied Band-Aids and bright stickers until convinced he was okay again. Once back in his room, he transferred the stickers to his wall. He built up quite the collection.

 

_What will you be when you grow up?_

_A painter._

Medicine was out, painting was in. How Vanya had convinced Dad to give her a mini easel and paints, Five had no idea, but there it was, centre in her room. Most likely Dad had no idea and it was from Pogo instead, but Vanya was so proud Five didn’t push the point.

“I’ll be a famous painter,” Vanya told the others as they admired her new equipment. “All the robbers will want to steal my paintings so you’ll have to stop them for me.”

Ben ran his hand down the easel’s frame, his eyes wide. “You’ll have to practice loads first.”

“I will. Every day.”

“I don’t think robbers will try steal your art, but if they do I’ll let them,” Klaus said, earning himself a kick in the shin from Five. “Ow, what was that for?”

“Don’t be a jerk,” Five hissed, watching the light dim in Vanya’s eyes. “I bet every robber out there will be after them.”

 

Vanya barred everyone from her room as she practiced. Normally his siblings’ activities behind closed doors were of no interest to Five – it wasn’t like closed doors meant much to him anyway – but Vanya specifically asked him not to look. Naturally then, he was dying to see.

A few weeks later, Five was working off excess energy pacing the halls when he heard a growl of frustration. Nothing unusual in a household full of highly strung boys, but the sound didn’t come from any of his brother’s rooms. It came from Vanya’s.

Five paused outside her door. After a moment came a soft sob and panic flashed through Five. Crying sisters was not covered in training. He considered getting Mom, but then another sob broke through and he knocked before he could back out.

“Vanya? Can I come in?”

“Five?” Her voice was high and strained with tears. “Um, okay.”

Normally Five would jump straight onto her bed and laugh as she startled, but today he cracked open the door and stuck his head round. “Why are – uh –“

He trailed off as he took in the paintings. Bright landscapes, flowers, houses, stars, monsters, explosions – canvases tessellating into a riot of colour across every wall. And on the easel, one larger than the rest, a family portrait. Dad, Mom, Pogo, and six children in uniform. Traces of a seventh on the edge were smudged under a paint spill.

Vanya knelt on the floor in her paint-splatted apron, fat tears rolling down her face. “I can’t guh-get it right,” she choked out. “I c-can’t do people.”

“Then do another one,” Five replied, shrugging to cover his awkwardness. He really should have gone to get Mom, she knew the right words to say. Whatever was upsetting Vanya about messing up the painting a little wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with. “You’ll get there. All the others look fine.”

“That’s different. I copied things. When I try from my head it doesn’t work.”

Frowning, Five examined her work again. In a few short weeks she’d done a remarkable amount, and wasn’t too bad either. So what if one painting didn’t go the way she wanted? Paintings didn’t matter. It wasn’t worth getting upset over. Telling Vanya would probably make her cry more though, and Five very much wanted to avoid that.

“So it helps to have something to look at when painting?” he asked, and Vanya nodded slightly, as though she were ashamed. “Why don’t you paint me if you want to do people? I can sit here so you can look the whole time, that’ll make it work, right?”

“You’d do that?” Her eyes brightened, wide with anxiety. “You’d have to sit really still. You’d get bored.”

He hadn’t thought of that. Sitting still was not one of Five’s talents; he need to move, to work out the constant restless energy in his bones, or at least fiddle to keep his hands busy. “I already said I’d help, didn’t I?” he said because Vanya had stopped crying now and he really didn’t want her to start again. “I’ll read a book so I’m not bored, and it’s not like it’ll take too long, right?”

 

It took far, far too long. Even with a book to occupy him, Five needed reminding to stay still, to sit properly, not to jump up and start pacing as he read and definitely not to jump around the room when he got excited by the latest chapter. Vanya was patient despite his deficiencies as a model and kept the sessions to half hours or so to make it easier for him. Sometimes she was concentrating too hard to chat back when he tired of reading, but Five didn’t mind. He’d always been good at holding conversations himself.

Finally, Vanya was done. “What do you think?” she asked shyly, her paintbrush clutched in both hands.

Five looked at the portrait, taking in the misshapen hands and too big eyes and awkward expression. He tried to imagine her painting more and more, of all of them, each time a little better, a little easier, a little more beautiful, building a lifetime of work for art, a thousand blank canvases that could become anything. He kind of wanted to punch it. “Fantastic,” he said, truthfully. “Can I have it?”

The ugly portrait hung in his room, next to his sticker collection.

 

_What will you be when you grow up?_

_A makeup artist._

Vanya told only Five of this latest ambition, after a heartfelt plea for him not to laugh. “I’ll do Allison’s makeup for interviews and photo shoots,” she explained in a low voice, eyes serious under her even fringe. Aged nine, it was already clear the media treated Allison differently to the boys. “Then we can travel the world together. She doesn’t know yet though, so don’t tell her. I don’t want to show her until I’m good.”

Five didn’t laugh, even if he couldn’t see the appeal of putting different colours on someone’s face. Vanya wasn’t sure how she’d secretly get any makeup, so Five took matters into his own hands. He nicked eyeliner and blush and lipstick and lots of other strange things from Allison and Klaus, and told Vanya he’d bought them in a nearby store. She was delighted.

Letting Vanya practice on him was far worse than modelling. Now fidgeting risked losing an eye to the mascara stick, he hated the stickiness of gloss on his lips and the press of her brush against his eyelids made him feel sick. It took all of his self-control not to jump away on reflex, but when he could finally open his eyes in front of the mirror and saw her smiling proudly next to him, he was glad he didn’t. Besides, he looked pretty good.

 

_An athlete._

Five timed Vanya as she ran laps around the yard, and shouted encouragement from behind his book as she attempted pushups on the floor.

 

_A firefighter._

Five convinced Klaus to start fire just outside Vanya’s room so she could practice with the fire extinguisher. A bag of sweets made up for the scolding he got afterwards.

 

_A mom._

His suggestion they borrow a real baby was vetoed, so Five stole one of Allison’s dolls instead and dug out some old baby gear from storage.

 

_A fashion designer._

 

Mom showed Vanya how to use the sewing machine, and she measured Five up because it was easier than trying to do herself. A few weeks later, he proudly wore the skirts and dresses she made him around the house, and made it clear to Klaus what would happen if he so much as touched them.

 

_A chef._

Vanya helped Mom in the kitchen every day, and created her own meals whenever left unsupervised. Five tried them all.

“Today I invented a new sandwich,” she announced, laying the heavily laden plate on the table in front of him. “It’s peanut butter and marshmallow.”

Five eyed the pile with suspicion, picking one up slowly. The peanut butter oozed out the side onto his fingers. “Sounds good,” he said and took a bite. The sickly sweetness hit instantly and he nearly gagged, but somehow managed to swallow instead. “Mmm. Delicious.”

They were disgusting, and between them they finished the whole plate.

 

_A violinist_

For once, Five wasn’t the first Vanya told about her new plan. He didn’t mind. Much. Mom probably knew more about violins than he did anyway.

He minded a little more that he didn’t get to listen to her practice. After so long watching her work towards everything, it felt strange to be on the outside again. Trying out all different futures with her had been fun, much more fun than constantly training to be Dad’s minion or whatever.

(Five hadn’t felt bad for Vanya in a long time. Sometimes he wondered what he’d do in he’d do in her place, but those thoughts were pointless. His future was mapped.)

“Are you sure you don’t want me around?” he asked, annoyed he sounded like a whiny child, which only made it worse.

“When I’m better you can,” Vanya promised, hugging the case to her chest. “But I’ve got a special feeling about this. I don’t want anyone to hear just yet.”

“Fine.” Five shrugged, his eyes dropping sulkily to the floor. He’d seen her failures alongside success with everything else she’d tried. What was so different about this? “Violin’s boring anyway. You should do something fun like guitar.”

“Oh no, violins are lovely!”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

Five looked up. Gentle Vanya never raised her voice.

With a sigh, her glare melted away. “I’ll be first chair of an orchestra someday,” she said. “And you’ll get front row tickets to see me.”

“Can’t wait,” Five replied, meaning it. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

 

_??????_

Five never found Vanya’s body. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. Maybe it was better this way, his last memory of her a normal dinner rather than… the alternative.

A few years into the apocalypse, a miracle happened. He found a book with her face on, dated five years before the end. A chance to see her future after all.

He smiled despite himself. “An author, huh?” he said to Delores. “Funny, we never thought of that one. Yes, obviously I’m going to read it.”

Fingers trembling, he laid the book on his knees and opened it to the first page.

_My name is Vanya Hargreeves. This is my story._

Five’s mind raced with what that could mean. With no set path, no heavy hand on her shoulder guiding her to heroics, she’d had to world open to her. Doctor, painter, makeup artist, athlete, firefighter, mom, fashion designer, chef, violinist, anything and everything under the sun.

How could he have ever felt bad for her? He’d kill for that chance now. Survival was the only option left for him and that was no future at all.

He hoped she’d made the most of it.

Taking a deep breath, he lowered his eyes again, and began to read.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Oops this was not on my very long list of things to write but here we go! I forwent a night out to write like 1k of this last night and I'm glad I did not just because apparently it wasn't that great a night but also because this was fun! Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed and I'm always down to chat in the comments <3
> 
> *****
> 
> If you enjoyed this fic, you might want to check out my others. I have fics in the [Supernatural,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/works?fandom_id=27) [ Osomatsu,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/works?fandom_id=7048385) [ Ace Attorney, ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/works?fandom_id=1034737) [ Haikyuu,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/works?fandom_id=758208) [ Portal, ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/works?fandom_id=83491) [ Boku No Hero Academia,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/works?fandom_id=3828398) [The Umbrella Academy ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/works?fandom_id=29744003)and [Widdershins fandoms, ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/works?fandom_id=2511207) with more being added all the time.


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